The Boy in Red
by Porcupinasaurus
Summary: I mostly made this because I never saw any Red/OC fanfics. Ah, well, I'm sorry if that's some unspoken code to not make one and I just went against it. I was being experimental. Sorry again! - He's always up there on that mountain, yet every time I go against him I lose. He's become a nemesis of mine, and I've never even asked for his name. The name of the boy dressed in red.


**Too many dang Green/Red fics. I want to make a Red/OC fic, because, well- hey! Why not?**

It was the same darn routine every month. I'd scale the entire Mount Silver just to see his mute self, and end up walking down again an hour after- all pride I'd managed to get up dashed into the snow. But then again, he did have a team filled with 80-something-level Pokémon. Well, a level 88 Pikachu, 84 Blastoise, 84 Charizard, 84 Venasaur, 82 Lapras, and 82 Snorlax. I've seen the whole team enough times for it to be engraved in my head, and that has to say something, right? My level sixties don't exactly have a chance, now do they?

Exasperated and carrying a bees nest in my brain, I stepped off the last set of stairs, the ones that connected the sky-high mountain with the rest of Jhoto, and looked up. I could plainly see that tall peak. That tall, agonizing peak I had been traversing- and whether I had been doing it to regain the dignity I had lost long ago or to finally be the best, I just don't know… and it was only hurting my head to think about it, so I distracted my mind.

Let's see- I began- I have to remember to talk to Oak tomorrow. I got some more Pokémon for him to see. Just an Arbok and Persian, really… finally leveled those guys up, after a while. I set them free after that though. For some reason my mind gets frazzled if I have too many Pokémon on my PC.

Why keep creatures you won't use all locked up? Ah, but that's beside the point. Two closer to having a full Pokédex! That's closer than I was before.

I continue my thoughts and scamper up the road, dodging the tall grass with the grace of a confused Poliwag. And yet, the path, pre-embedded into my mind- agrees with my footwork, and I happen to reach the clearing. I grab a Pokéball from my waist (two from the left, to be exact) and open it, my Dodrio rocketing into the air, and landing on the ground. I clambered onto his back, his facial expressions as they always were as he cried and set off to Pallet Town, my usual place to travel to.

"So…. Did you finally beat him?" My friend Clementine asks for the tenth time, disturbing the silence of my room yet again. She frowned as I didn't respond. "Thistle? What's wron-"

"No, I didn't beat him, what do you think?!" I growled, the ears on my Arcanine lifting in shock at my loud voice, before drifting into a grumbled sleep again. . Clementine's eyes drooped, and she looked down, walking over and sitting next to me on my bed. Of course I instantly felt bad… but I wasn't exactly in the mood for apologizing. Another thing I'd feel worse about later. I closed my eyes before opening them, trying to get the blood-to-head feeling I'd gotten because of my position on my bed- lying upside down with my head hanging off the side.

"You'll do it eventually! Don't worry. You'll beat him eventually." Her voice was smooth, and reassuring- but that didn't exactly help.

"You said that five tries ago. It's been at least nine tries. Nine." I sighed, and Clementine only smiled again, using her tan-skinned and nimble hands to brush my straight brown bangs out of my face, and putting a strand of my curled long hair behind my right ear.

"You'll do it eventually." She said in the upmost confidence, a glint in her orange eyes boring down into my pale purple ones. A sad frown plastered to my face as I stood up from my place next to her, and dragged my body over to the farthest wall facing my bed. Picking up a nearby chalk, I scratched it down my wall in a straight line, next to all the other tally marks.

"I hope so." I whispered, not taking my glare from the wall. We stayed silent for awhile, before she painstakingly tried to break the ice.

"So… uh… what was his name again?" She asked quietly, and I was flinched away from my imagination.

"I don't actually know…" I whispered in sudden realization. My mind reverted to the times we fought together. His red hat, red clothes, black hair, red tinted eyes- "Everyone's always just called him Red."


End file.
